They find me when the air is hottest—cooks your breath before it catches fire—these walking silhouettes, donning crowns of nuclear fusion. They’re wildflowers, invasive & untouched if wildflowers were both humanoid & had hope; & they always begin the same. Why are you prostrating in your yard? I tell them the grass teaches me how to come back from half-dead, & I show them there’s another silhouette on the roof—a test subject, a trial run. Well, who am I? they ask? I tell them I don’t know when I really do. I know because they’re the same as all those before & after. They’re all the man on the roof; they’re all the person in the closet no one knows to ask about.
Benjamin Rozzi earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Washington & Jefferson College, where he was mentored by Dr. George David Clark, Editor of 32 Poems. His poetry appears in or is forthcoming from One Sentence Poems, Moonchild Magazine, and Riggwelter Press, among other venues. Benjamin is currently the Managing Editor of 1932 Quarterly, and lives south of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He can be found on Twitter.